A Borrowed Angel
by Broadway Babe WA
Summary: I was bored and wrote this for AIDS awareness day. Kinda angsty with a hint of RENT in there. Might find a way to continue it but I don't know. Yes, it's April again, but when you think of it, she's the one most likely to get said virus…  sorry Kristin…


**Well, yesterday was AIDS awareness day so I thought I should write this… might continue it, might not. Just wanted to honor the people who live and have died with this sad, sad virus. We were talking about it in health so I thought I should recognize it publicly… I know it's kinda late, but I didn't have time to go type it up till now when I decided to procrastinate in Study Hall… also now I really want those RENT tickets my mom said she'd get me… anyways, read on, everyone! (Yes, it is another Rhodes one, but she'd probably be the most likely one for this to happen so shut it.)**

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><p>I actually have it… I think to myself, looking at the small piece of paper. HIV test… positive. Things were just beginning to look up for me when this happens. I was finally gonna move on after all that stuff in my life happened. I actually got a show to actually make it to the Broadway stage and made just enough to let me live a normal life somewhere… the guy who took Will's part in my show even won a Tony…<p>

I love singing; it's my only talent and greatest passion, but I don't wanna have to move from place to place anymore and stay in one place after another. I was gonna go find myself somewhere to live and find myself a place to perform, maybe even find someone that would help me get over Will, but the medicine is expensive and it'll probably take up what little money I do have that I was gonna use to get myself a real home. Now I can't even just find a hookup to take me home. I'll be back on the streets in a matter of months and I might just die in a few more years…

_God… that is so depressing… who've thought this is how it would end._

I look around the small but nice looking apartment I'd gotten for myself. After I had gotten it I found myself some new furniture and redid it with some of the money I'd gotten from the show. I thought it would be my home, at least, until I got tired of the city. I thought I'd live in it for at least a year. I was wrong.

I need a drink.

I put on a long, warm wool jacket and head outside into the cold. It's snowing lightly, pretty little flakes of white powder. The cold starts to come over me and I start to shiver a little. I've been getting chills so easily, but I still wanna get to a bar. I don't take a taxi, I walk the whole way. Twelve blocks doesn't seem like much, but when everything feels freezing it feels like more.

I finally make it into the bar; loud music playing and drinks all around. I walk right up to the counter and take a seat on the stool, and order a martini.

"You okay?" some one asks on my right. I turn and see a woman–no, a man sitting there. A drag queen, Latino, with short black hair, deep brown eyes, and a warm looking face. He's in woman's clothes, and the whole look comes together nicely to make him a very convincing woman.

"Um… yeah…" I say, sipping my drink.

"You look upset," she says, taking a drink of beer. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'…"

"From the way you're desperately trying to drink that martini, I wouldn't say it's nothing."

I say nothing, but order another drink. As soon as I get it I start to down it faster than the last one.

"Chica, nothing could surprise me," she tells me seriously, "I've heard it all… it's okay if you tell me. It'll get it off your mind easier."

I finish my second glass. Maybe it's because I'll never see her again, or maybe it's the warm buzz that's starting to warm me, but something tells me I can tell this stranger. I don't really know why, but I just feel comfortable around her.

I pull out the result paper I had folded up and put into my pocket and hand it to her. "Just got it today…" I say sadly, "Thought I just had a cold or the flu…"

She unfolds the paper and reads it carefully. "Oh, sweetie…"

"I got it back today. I don't have any friends or family so no one will care when I'm gone," I say, drinking more. "Can't even pay for the stuff I need… well not for long."

_**The next morning…**_

God… what happened last night? I think to myself. My head is throbbing so hard and I don't remember much after meeting that drag queen… okay I showed her the test I had done and had a few more martinis and a glass or two of wine. Who took me back back home? Him? I don't know. I just can't remember what I did that night after I had all those drinks. I'm in my bed in the clothes I wore last night, so I know I didn't sleep with anyone.

Wait… there's something on the table next to my bed. An envelope…

I reach over and pick it up. On the front of it says,_ today 4 u, tomorrow 4 me._ I open it. Out falls a pile of bills and a note:

_Here's something to help with paying for the medicine. For more, go to the closest ATM and type in the code, Boho. I hope this helps you, I know what it felt like to go through what you did._

_Good luck with your life, chica, see you up there one day._

_Angel_

Angel? I don't remember meeting anyone with that name… unless that was her at the bar. I wonder where she went…

I end up living a lot longer than I thought I would. I keep the apartment in NYC and keep acting whenever I can. I try for years to find Angel, but I never do. One day I'm walking past the cemetery when a headstone catches my eye:

_Angel Dumott Schunard_

But what catches my attention most is the year of death…

_1990…_

It's 2011. That's twenty one years ago… this couldn't be the same person; but I notice something else. There's a picture on top of the grave, and a small group of people there. A black woman with fancy clothes and curly hair, a tall looking brunette in rock-style clothes and leather boots, and a blond man with a scarf. But what I notice most is the picture. It's the same Latino guy I saw back at the bar that one night, but without the makeup and feminine clothes, but the same face.

_I must be hallucinating… or maybe I was hallucinating back then. It doesn't make sense…_

That night when I go to bed I see a white light. It's warm, and welcoming. Am I dying? I don't think so… I've been pretty healthy for the last few months. Then I see Angel there. I'm beginning to think I'm going crazy when she begins to speak;

"You're not going crazy, girl."

"You left me the money?" I ask.

"Yeah, I did. Live your life with it; no day but today," she says with a smile. "Live each moment like as your last. Just live life to the fullest and you'll be happy."

The next morning, I wake up with only one thing going through my head:

_No day but today…_

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><p><strong>I do apologize if I sucked at this. I wrote it when I was really bored which means my writing just kinda deteriorates as I go along and I miss a lot of stuff, but I just felt like I had to get this out there. :) <strong>

_** VIVA LA VIE BOHEME!**_


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